I will show myself compassion and allow compassion to extend itself to others.

May I feel the power of love surrounding me. 

May I feel connected and whole,

May I remember the little things…

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I may not tickle ivory as my elders’

my elders can surely make those ivory keys sing

bending wood between joints of their fingers like strings

strings that belong to God this I’m sure

 but in the closet of my soul 

I remember my mother’s knees 

closely, compacted  mahogany-copper 

bone replaced with steel, firmly planted to hear the voice of God 

 washing the rags of her eyes 

her eyes on God 

keeping her posture on the threshing floors

fleshing out tears as white as snow 

I remember the simmering rain, of prayers 

with utterances that kept us warm 

utterances in key where prayers go

 when they are tattered and worn

prayers that give us new names 

that we are not who we used to be 

and prayers that affirm our higher calling,